


Still Magnificent

by HarmonyLover



Series: The England Chronicles [1]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, post-Dawn Treader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonyLover/pseuds/HarmonyLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Peter returns from studying with Professor Kirke, his favorite sister gives him some much-needed comfort and advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of _The Chronicles of Narnia_ ; it all belongs to the C.S. Lewis estate, Walt Disney Pictures, Walden Media, 20th Century Fox, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  **Author’s Note:** There is not enough Peter/Lucy fiction in this wonderful world of ours. This is my first contribution toward filling that deficit. The first chapter was written in 2009, and then I revised it and wrote a second chapter in 2011. For those wondering, compulsory education in England only went to age 14 when Peter would have been going through school, with some provision for part-time schooling for 15-18 year olds, but it is my understanding that one could also go to university if entrance exams were passed. It is my guess that it was those examinations that Peter studied for under Professor Kirke. My thanks to [Almyra](https://www.fanfiction.net/~almyra) for her wonderful stories, endless kind encouragement, and inspiration. The title of this story is taken from her absolutely gorgeous tale Running the Gauntlet, in which Peter’s fiancée Meg says to Edmund, “He was magnificent. He still is."

**Still Magnificent**

_Finchley, October 1942_

 

Ten-year-old Lucy Pevensie watched as her eldest brother walked outside through the back door of their house in Finchley. He had come home from his summer study with Professor Kirke just a few weeks ago, and he was . . . unsettled. Lucy frowned thoughtfully as she looked through the upper story window. He was to take the university entrance exams in a few weeks, so that he might enter not this fall, but the following year, and he had said that he planned to study and work during the year between, so that he could pay for some of the expenses himself and be well-prepared when he started to earn his degree. He meant to keep up with the Professor through correspondence and make sure that he was studying the correct curriculum. _Trust Peter to try and be as little of a burden to Mum and Dad as possible_ , thought Lucy affectionately, continuing to observe him as he strolled to the apple tree in the yard. He was always trying to make things easier for Mum, especially since their father had had to return to army service after his lecture tour. Mr. Pevensie had been encouraging the patriotic fervor that seemed to have gripped the States since they had entered the war, and apparently had been greeted like a hero at every stop, or so Susan had said. However, the British Army had seen fit to send him back to the front when he returned to England, and their mother had barely managed to hold up under the grief of losing him again. While Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were home from boarding school for the half-term holiday, they followed Peter’s example and tried to help their mother as much as they could, doing jobs around the house in addition to their school work and being playful just to make her smile.

Susan was – well, Susan had been different when she came home from America, but Lucy didn’t want to think about that now. She wanted to know what was bothering her brother so; she always felt dreadful when he was unhappy. She and Edmund had told him of their summer adventure with Caspian and Eustace in long, descriptive letters, and while he had been fascinated by all they had done and seen, and happy to know that Caspian was well and Narnia prosperous, she had sensed some undercurrent of sadness in his responses that seemed never to have left him, even now that he was at home with them once more.

She left the window and went down the stairs, going quietly into the back garden. Peter had settled himself under the apple tree, his back against the trunk, but when he heard her soft approach he turned his head and smiled at her, warmth filling his blue eyes. He lifted an arm and gestured for her to sit next to him, which she did willingly, snuggling in beside him. They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes before Lucy raised her head to look at him.

“What is it, Peter? You’re unhappy,” she said gently.

Peter quirked a rueful half-smile at his favorite sister before speaking. “I’m not unhappy, exactly, Lu, but I feel a little . . . lost.”

Lucy leaned her head against him again in a comforting gesture. “You miss home.”

Peter didn’t have to ask what she meant; clearly “home” in this case was not their home in Finchley.

“I do,” Peter said quietly. “I miss it so much sometimes that it hurts to even think about it. When you and Edmund had your trip to the _Dawn Treader_ this summer, I could almost see everything you wrote in your letters, and it was so vivid and beautiful that it made my heart ache. I wanted to see those things with you; I wanted to be back in Narnia.”

“I miss it too,” Lucy said softly. “You were right when you told me that it wasn’t how I thought it would be, to leave, to know that I was never coming back. Nothing could ever compare to that first time we left.” Lucy paused for a moment; her voice had started to shake, and Peter knew that she was making an effort to push away the overwhelming sadness that always appeared whenever she thought of the day they went hunting the White Stag. He felt the same pain; they had all been numb with shock for days and weeks after tumbling out of the wardrobe, having lost a whole life that had become more precious to them than anything they had left behind in England.

“It also might have had to do with where we were,” Lucy continued, wonder creeping into her voice as she remembered. “We were at the very edge of Aslan’s Country, Peter. We could see it in the distance, through that massive wall of water, and we had reached it after days and days of bright sun and sweet water. By then it felt as though everything was happening just as it was meant to happen – and I think it was. Ed and I were meant to go home, then, and Narnia and Caspian were well, and Aslan was with us, and somehow it was all right. There are still occasions, though, where I feel as though I can’t breathe, I want to be home so badly.”

Peter sighed. Lucy’s wistful description of the Silver Sea and the country beyond Narnia had produced, for him, the same tightness in his chest she described, and he struggled to find words for the conflict he was feeling. “I have those moments, too, Lu, and it seems as though that pain has been constant since I received your and Ed’s letters. Then I remember what Aslan said when Su and I left, that we need to be here, and I feel ashamed for even wishing for Narnia when I know He wouldn’t want it. I suppose I’m having a hard time balancing one home with the other. It’s so strange, knowing so much more than we should, thinking and feeling like adults most of the time even when we look like kids to everyone around us. I wish I knew how to handle that. Aslan sent us back here, Lu; there is a reason for us to be here. How can I find out what that is if I can never stop feeling like Peter the High King?” 

Peter’s eyes were dark with agitation, and Lucy’s eyes were equally troubled as she looked back at him. Seeing the look on his sister’s face, Peter swallowed hard and tried to calm himself. He shouldn’t be the reason his joyful little sister looked like that; he had hated seeing her worried even in Narnia, when it was so much a part of her nature to be happy.   

The next moment, however, he was reminded that there was also endless courage and sympathy in Lucy, as she reached up to stroke his hair and met his look firmly.

“Peter, there is no shame in missing Narnia. Narnia was and is and will always be our home, and we had wonderful lives there. Neither is there shame in missing your responsibilities or your subjects. I think – I think even Aslan would say that he would not want us to forget Narnia, but neither would he want us to forget to embrace life here. He told Ed and me that we need to be here, too; He said that He exists here as well as there, and that we should embrace Him in this world. Not only that, but we have to learn to love England just as much as we loved Narnia. I try to remind myself of that when I get homesick. That’s the first thing,” Lucy said, giving him a little smile. “Second, when it comes to feeling like the High King, did it ever occur to you that maybe you aren’t supposed to stop?”

Surprise covered Peter’s face. “What?” he asked disbelievingly, and Lucy chuckled.

“Edmund told me about some of the things you did at school last year, you know, since you would never tell me yourself. The boys listened to you, even the younger ones, and they followed you and Ed without even wondering why they did so. Ed leaves himself out of his own stories, but you tell me about him, so between the two of you I know exactly what’s happened,” Lucy added mischievously, getting a laugh out of Peter.

“Edmund exaggerates,” he said, shaking his head and smiling.

“Oho,” said Lucy, her eyes twinkling. “So you didn’t break up Tommy Howes and Albert Jenkins when they were fighting, even though they’re a year behind Edmund, and give them a kind lecture on how to talk out their differences, pulling Edmund in to give them a lesson on argumentative rhetoric?”

Peter felt his cheeks grow hot. “I didn’t lecture them; I just talked to them, _especially_ because they’re a year behind Edmund. They shouldn’t be settling their quarrels with fists when they’re just kids. I was horrified that they even thought of it. That’s exactly the kind of thing that got Ed into so much trouble at that other school, before we went to Narnia the first time. As for Edmund, well, you know as well as I do that Ed’s the best of all of us in a debate. I just thought he could show them what I meant better than I could.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Lucy said, her smile growing, since she was greatly enjoying her elder brother’s discomfiture. “And you didn’t  go up to George Smythe when he said something awful about his friend’s sister and tell him what you thought of his manners and decency, even when he’s a year ahead of you and bigger than you are? He could have tried to fight you, but Edmund said you almost had him sniveling on the ground by the time you were through reprimanding him. I know Ed was waiting to back you up, too, if he had to, even though he didn’t say so.”

Peter’s face grew even redder. “George shouldn’t have said what he did; I would never allow anyone to talk that way about you or Su, and I can’t imagine saying anything so coarse about a girl, no matter whether I know her well or not.” A thought struck him and he looked sharply at Lucy. “Ed wasn’t foolish enough to tell you _what_ Smythe said, was he?”

Lucy gave in then and laughed at her brother’s embarrassment and anxiety on her behalf, the merry sound pealing out across the yard. “No, he didn’t, brother dear. He would never repeat such a thing himself, you know, and I’m sure I wouldn’t want to hear it. Not to mention that he knows how you would feel about it.” She leaned over and kissed Peter affectionately on the cheek, then sat back on her heels and looked at him, still smiling warmly. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, though, Peter, when I say that you are the High King still, and maybe you’re supposed to be. The younger boys are in awe of you because you’re so caring and commanding all at once. The older boys see that same fierce Peter that led Narnia’s army, and most of them are a bit afraid of Ed because he’s so insistent about fair behavior and so good at twisting all of their words and arguments against them. You lead here just as you did in Narnia; it’s just not on the same scale.”

“It’s not really leading, though, Lu,” Peter protested. “I’m not making diplomatic decisions or signing treaties or planning battles. I was just doing what I felt was right, trying to help the younger boys. George Smythe made me angry; I was rather upset at myself for that little display, even though he needed to hear the opinion of someone who isn’t afraid of him. I’ve kept myself calm in front of Giants, diplomats, ogres, and whole armies, for heaven’s sake! _George Smythe_ manages to make me angry? It was hardly a reaction worthy of the High King.”

“On the contrary, Peter, I think it was,” Lucy said tenderly. “I can see just how you must have been. I remember how you looked when any of the diplomats or ambassadors said something you didn’t like. You didn’t get truly angry, thank the Lion, but you smoldered, and even that was enough to send most of them backtracking and pleading for forgiveness. Ed always spent his anger with well-chosen words, and he could be terrifying when he was like that, but you – when anyone managed to upset you, all it took was a few words and that _look_. As I recall, the fastest way to provoke that reaction out of you, off the battlefield, was when someone said something unkind about Su or me. We always appreciated your defense.”

“I know, but I am your brother,” he said, bringing his hand up to stroke her check fondly. “It’s my job; if Ed and I didn’t do it, who would?”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to defend that girl that you’ve never met, and yet you did it anyway,” Lucy pointed out. “You watch over and care for others, Peter; it’s just part of who you are. When you’re home, Su and I see it, too. It’s in everything you do for Mum, how you take care of all of us, how kind you are to strangers. You are still the confidant for Su and Ed and I, just as you were at Cair Paravel. If we were in danger, you are still the leader we would look to. You are still the brightest hope and the greatest source of joy we have. I don’t think you _could_ stop being High King if you wanted to; it’s part of your soul. Aslan chose you because of that soul, because you were already everything Narnia needed. Being High King just cultivated what was already there. Maybe England needs a bit of the High King, too. Don’t be afraid to be yourself even here, Peter; the best thing you can do is use all your gifts to their fullest.”

Peter looked slightly stunned as he listened, but as she finished his blue eyes conveyed heartfelt gratitude. Lucy saw that his eyes were unnaturally bright, perhaps wet, as he reached out to pull her into a hug. “ _You_ don’t sound anything like a ten-year-old schoolgirl, Lucy the Valiant,” he said, managing to tease her, although she could hear the deep emotion in his voice.

“I have two brothers who taught me a thing or two about being eloquent,” she replied, teasing lovingly in her turn as she hugged him back.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I’m not half as good as you think me, Lu, but thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

Lucy buried her head in Peter’s shoulder, taking comfort in her older brother’s nearness. “You don’t have to _say_ anything; it’s in what you do every day,” she whispered. “You’re our Magnificent Peter always, and we love you for it.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of _The Chronicles of Narnia_ ; it all belongs to the C.S. Lewis estate, Walt Disney Pictures, Walden Media, 20th Century Fox, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> **Author’s Note:** I must thank [Autumnia](http://autumnia.livejournal.com/) for being a thoughtful, helpful, and altogether wonderful beta reader for this revised story and the one that follows it. Her insightful comments, careful canon checking, and cheerful encouragement have been invaluable.

**Still Magnificent – Chapter Two**

 

The oldest and youngest Pevensie siblings sat curled up together for a long time, Peter drawing strength from his younger sister and Lucy silently sending reassurance and love to Peter as she relaxed against him. A cool autumn breeze stirred their hair and clothing, and the pungent smell of earth and the crispness of the changing season reached their noses. Though the wind was cool rather than warm, it was still sweet and refreshing, gentle as a benediction, and Lucy thought that it felt like an echo of Aslan’s breath on her face.

“Speaking of confidences,” Lucy said eventually, her voice quiet, “may I tell you something I never told any of the others?”

“Of course, Lu,” Peter said, looking concerned. “You know you may always tell me anything.”

Lucy nodded gratefully. “When we were on Coriakin’s island,” she began, “and I went to his book to try and make the Dufflepuds visible, there were so many other spells in his book that it was really quite fascinating. There was one that was supposed to make you beautiful – and I wanted to try that one a great deal. However, I had a terrible feeling that I shouldn’t – and then Aslan’s face appeared in the book, and he looked dreadfully stern. I was afraid,” Lucy whispered. “I almost can’t understand how I went on to do what I did, not after seeing Him, but I came to another spell that would tell you what others thought of you.”

“I had wanted to try that first spell so much that I went ahead and said the second one before I could change my mind,” Lucy went on, looking mortified. “The pictures in Coriakin’s book came alive, Peter. They came alive, and they showed me two of my classmates talking about me on the train. One of the girls was my friend, and she said some things about me that were quite mean to an older girl whom I don’t like. It – it hurt.”

“It would,” Peter murmured, squeezing her shoulder.

“The worst of it was that I _knew_ saying the spell was wrong,” Lucy admitted. “I had gone to the book to begin with in order to help the Dufflepuds and to keep them from attacking Edmund and Caspian and the others. My original motives were unselfish. The reasons for saying that spell were purely self-centered, and I think the book knew that and reflected my own insecurities back to me. Coriakin is a rather extraordinary person, to have such magic at his disposal and manage not to harm anyone with it. It holds its own kind of fascination.”

“I would imagine so,” Peter said, thinking with a shudder about what such a book could do in the hands of the wrong person. “Consider, though, Lu, that Coriakin is also a star. Such a being must have a greater perspective on the universe than we do. He is obviously imperfect, but after centuries of being in the sky, I am sure he is aware that even small actions can impact the world – all worlds – in significant ways.”

“I finally said the spell to make the Dufflepuds visible, and just after that, Aslan came into the room,” Lucy confessed. “He said he had been there all the time, and he reprimanded me for eavesdropping on the girls. I felt like such a fool! His eyes are so terrible when he’s disappointed in you, and it’s even worse because he always knows _why_ you have done something.”

“I know,” Peter agreed soberly, thinking of several occasions in Narnia where Aslan had reproved him in much the same way.

“I never told Ed or Eustace about what I had done,” Lucy said despondently. “I told them about seeing Aslan, of course, and about meeting Coriakin. I couldn’t tell them the rest. I was so very ashamed of myself.”

Peter pulled her close and hugged her. “You are human, Lucy. You were curious about the book and what it could do, and curiosity got the better of you. It happens to the best of us. I don’t quite understand why you chose to say that particular spell, and perhaps that was your mistake. You _know_ that the people in your life who matter most to you care about you greatly. You should trust what they tell you, trust what they do when they are around you. Why did you say that spell, of all the ones in the book?”

Lucy became even more uncomfortable, if that was possible. “It – it’s to do with Susan,” she whispered, wringing her hands. “It was really the first spell, Peter. Su is so beautiful, and people love her. Our _subjects_ loved her. They loved her kindness and gentleness, her gracefulness, the skillful way she can smooth over a difficult situation. And a tiny, tiny part of me has always wished that I could be more like her. It isn’t jealousy, exactly. I love Su so very dearly, and I’ve always admired her for everything she is. But some irrational corner of my mind thought that if I could _look_ more like her, perhaps I could _be_ more like her. She has so many gifts that I lack.”

“Oh, Lu,” Peter said, very gently. “You don’t need to be anyone but yourself. Don’t you know that there are qualities you have that Susan has always wished for? You have the ability to make friends so easily, to be so open with others, to walk around with a constant sense of wonder and joy. Su is a little more like Edmund that way, though she would probably never admit it. She has a tendency to be naturally careful and guarded around others until they have proven themselves to her. She wishes _she_ could be like _you_ just as much as you wish you could be like her. That is why you are sisters; that is why you look to each other for support and strength. You complement one another.”

Lucy’s eyes were uncertain as she looked at Peter. “Do you really think so?” she asked shyly.

“Absolutely,” Peter said emphatically, taking her hand in his. “Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are or who you were, Lucy. You are a delightful, courageous, optimistic person, and that is true whether we are here or in Narnia. We all need you; there were four of us ruling Narnia for a reason.”

“Thank you, Peter,” Lucy said, tucking her head into his shoulder again. “I’m not usually so silly, and I knew I was giving in to my own fears, but it helps to tell you about it.”

“I’m glad,” Peter said tenderly. “That’s what I’m here for. And in case you’ve forgotten,” he continued, his tone becoming lighter, “you grew up into quite the beautiful woman, Lucy the Valiant. Ed and I had to keep constant watch when we had visitors. We even resorted to threats occasionally.”

Lucy laughed. “You did not!” she exclaimed incredulously.

“Oh, we became very skilled at being intimidating without actively creating hostility,” Peter contradicted her. “Ed especially; he was so good at being subtle and yet terrifying.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes dancing. “All that diplomacy,” she said. “I’m sure he employed it more on Susan’s behalf than on mine – she _is_ older than I am, and she was always getting all of those offers of marriage and ridiculous courtship gifts – but it’s fun to know that the two of you had to speak up for me occasionally.”

“Thank Aslan for Edmund’s expertise, too; he and Susan and Corin would never have made it out of Tashbaan alive if he hadn’t become so good at negotiation and delay,” Peter recalled thankfully.

Lucy’s expression sobered again as she thought of her older sister. “Peter, has Susan talked to you at all since you’ve been home?”

Peter sighed. “A little bit, Lu, although not as much as I’d like. She seems to be struggling with the social expectations of her friends; they have very different ideas than she does about what constitutes fun, and what they ought to do with their spare time.”

“So you’ve noticed that she’s . . . changed,” Lucy said carefully. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d been home long enough to see it.”

“I could hardly help seeing it,” Peter said dryly. “I was away for almost five months, and you know long absences tend to give you some startling clarity, particularly when it comes to those you are closest to. Even you and Edmund seem different – older, steadier. I’m sure your time aboard the _Dawn Treader_ was part of that change. But I think Su is somewhat confused about her place here; she seems at home when she’s with the three of us. When she’s with her own peer group, I think she tries to conform to their ways of behaving.”

“Yes,” Lucy agreed. “While you were away, she would come sit with Ed and me at night, and talk about Narnia, and laugh as we all used to do. I think it helped all of us with missing you,” Lucy acknowledged, giving Peter a warm glance. “She is still Susan the Gentle, when we’re all together, but when she is around anyone else she behaves so differently. It scares me, Peter. We used to be so close. In Narnia we told each other everything, and now there is a whole side to Su that I don’t know. I feel so _helpless_.”

A vivid memory swept over Peter, of Susan on a train platform more than a year ago, her blue eyes as full of despair as he had ever seen them. He remembered the feeling of dread that had struck him while he was looking into her face. He knew with sudden certainty that whatever had changed in Susan, it had begun the day that they had returned from helping Caspian, perhaps had even begun while they were in Narnia the second time. Peter hoped that she was still not completely beyond reach – but the root cause for this new Susan went far deeper than he had realized.

“I’m not sure Susan knows what she wants or who she’s meant to be right now,” Peter said aloud. “We’ve all struggled with balancing England and Narnia, and Su might be trying to cope with that problem differently from the rest of us.”

“She should know that she does not have to run from us simply because she is unsure or scared,” Lucy said softly, the hurt evident in her voice. “She is our sister; there is nothing she can do or feel that would make us stop loving her.”

“Have faith, Lu,” Peter murmured, kissing his youngest sister’s hair. “We will do our best to help Susan, and so will Aslan. She will come back to us.”

“Aslan let it be so,” Lucy whispered fervently.

“I’ll talk to Edmund,” Peter decided. “He may know something we don’t, or Su may have confided in him. In the meantime, I think we simply have to let Susan know that she is loved as much as ever, that we are here for her whenever she needs or wants us.”

“Of course,” Lucy said determinedly. “Of course we will.” She clasped Peter’s hand and he squeezed it in return, silently sealing a pact. They would help Susan find herself again. They would keep trying, for as long as they had to.

“You have told me about yourself and about Su,” Peter said after a pause. “Now tell me about Edmund.”

Lucy smiled, her eyes wise and knowing. “Why don’t _you_ tell me about him, my brother? For I know you have noticed every detail of him in the weeks you have been home. You and Edmund still speak without words.”

His sister’s effortless transition into the speech of Old Narnia made Peter smile with her, even as the echo of Cair Paravel’s court roused the ever-present ache in his heart.

“He is Edmund, but he is less the Edmund I left five months ago and more the Edmund the Just that I remember,” Peter said thoughtfully. “He was content when we returned from helping Caspian – well, except for worrying about me,” he amended, prompting a small huff of amusement from Lucy. “Once he helped me sort through everything I was feeling then, he seemed happy to be here in England. He even said to me before I left for the Professor’s that he was glad to be going to Uncle Harold and Aunt Alberta’s with you, simply because he didn’t want you to be alone.”

Lucy’s expression softened at this mention of Edmund’s love for her. “Bless him,” she murmured.

“When you wrote me at Professor Kirke’s, you were both so glad to have been back to Narnia, despite how hard it was to leave again,” Peter continued. “Yet there was – something – about Ed’s letters that seemed wrong. There was something he didn’t tell me. You are right that he tends to leave himself out of the stories he tells. It was doubly true in this case. He told me more about Eustace, and Caspian, and you, and even Reepicheep than he said about himself. At the time, I thought it was purely that he wanted to tell me everything that he could about what was happening in Narnia. While I’m sure that was part of it, now that I’m home, I catch him looking at me as though he wants to pour out whatever it is that he’s holding back.”

“There was more than he told you, Peter,” Lucy confirmed sympathetically. “I didn’t mention it to you either because I felt it was his right to tell you.”

“What is he afraid of?” Peter asked worriedly. “Even when things were at their worst in Narnia, we always confided in each other. It isn’t like him not to come to me with what’s bothering him. Did he and Caspian argue?”

“Once,” Lucy said. “Before we left the ship to take Reepicheep to Aslan’s Country and go home. Caspian wanted to come with us, and Edmund in particular told him that he absolutely could not, not while the throne of Narnia was his. Caspian was furious. Aslan spoke to him and settled everything, but it was terrible for Caspian as well as us. Ed had the right of the argument, though, Peter, and I don’t think _that_ is what’s upsetting him.” She stopped for a moment, hesitating before she spoke. She knew that Edmund’s well-being was everything to his elder brother, and if her suspicions were correct, it was going to be a difficult conversation for her male siblings.

“What is it, Lu?” Peter questioned her uneasily.

“I think what happened to Edmund was rather similar to what happened to me,” Lucy said cautiously. “There was an incident on Deathwater when Ed and Caspian had – not an argument, exactly, but a confrontation of sorts. They were both very unlike themselves, neither of them behaving as they ordinarily would. They were tempted, much as I was by Coriakin’s book. There was evil in that place, Peter.”

Lucy paused, slowly articulating her next painful thought. “It was very hard for us to be in Narnia without you and Susan, and there were moments when we felt . . . inadequate. I won’t say any more, because beyond that I’m only guessing. Educated guesses, maybe, but guessing nonetheless. You might need to coax it out of Edmund, Peter, but he needs to talk. Whatever is distressing him, it has to do with you, or he would have told you long before now.”

Peter wore a determined expression that Lucy had seen many times before. Peter allowed no one to hurt Edmund, least of all Edmund himself, and if it took cornering his younger brother in order to heal him, then corner him Peter would. “Edmund would be himself, I think, but for this nameless _something_ , and I will not allow it to torment him.”

“And you worry about balancing King Peter the Magnificent and Peter Pevensie,” Lucy said fondly, watching him. “If you could see yourself now, you wouldn’t worry. You have worn that expression a thousand times as King of Narnia, and also as our brother. Whether you are here or there, loving us and your subjects is what you do. Loving, and healing, and redressing wrongs to the best of your ability.”

Peter stood and held out his hand to Lucy, helping her rise so the two of them stood together under the apple tree. He gathered Lucy close, bending his head over hers, which still did not quite reach his shoulder. “Aslan be praised for sending me the wisdom of Lucy the Valiant,” Peter whispered lovingly in her ear. “For the three of you, Lu, I will always be here.”

 


End file.
